


Be Here

by zahnie



Series: Amnesia [1]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Amnesia, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Holding Hands, Hospitals, I just need you to know that he gets better okay, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 15:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14957243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zahnie/pseuds/zahnie
Summary: Hardison wakes up in the hospital with amnesia.





	Be Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greenmonstermash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenmonstermash/gifts).



> Birthday gift for greenmonstermash!! It's a month early because I woke up with words in my head yesterday and wrote it all in one day :D
> 
> Set post-canon. Medical details skimmed over on purpose because that's not what we're here for
> 
> Edit: [Bonus ficlet (posted to Tumblr)](http://zahnie.tumblr.com/post/179199185870/bonus-hardison-amnesia-ficlet)
> 
> Edit 2: added to series so it's easy to find all my Leverage amnesia fics but they're still stand-alone and can be read in any order

He wakes up in a hospital room. Which isn't very surprising, given how truly _bad_ he feels. Trying to move is obviously a mistake from the start. There's something in his throat. He tries to raise his hands to touch his face but they're so heavy.

He turns his head and sees two white people sleeping in chairs next to his bed. The woman has her feet curled up under her and her head on the man's shoulder. They must be here for somebody else because he doesn't know them.

His head hurts so he closes his eyes again. He doesn't want to go back to sleep.

~

He wakes up again. Someone is holding his hand. They squeeze it so he squeezes back.

“Eliot! He moved, Eliot!” The woman is excited. He doesn't recognize her voice.

It's harder than it should be to open his eyes, and by the time he's focussed on the woman, someone is holding onto his other hand. He tries to turn and gasps in pain. His eyes close by themselves.

“No, stay awake. Alec, please,” the woman says. She's on the edge of tears, and he must look almost as bad as he feels.

He squeezes the other hand, since it seems important. He doesn't know why.

“Dammit, Hardison. You scared us.” The man's voice is rough but his hand is gentle.

When he opens his eyes, he sees the blonde woman who was sleeping in the chair before. Her eyes are red. He still doesn't know her.

She smiles at him. She's beautiful. “Hi,” she says, softly.

He swallows. The thing in his throat is gone but he's dry as a bone. And starting to be afraid.

It hurts to think. It hurts to _exist_ right now, though, so he pushes through. He doesn't know these people but he knows that he should. He can't remember anything.

Something nearby starts beeping faster. The woman glances at it and then back at him. “It's okay, you're okay,” she says.

“Hey, breathe, Alec. Deep breaths,” the man says, squeezing his hand again.

They've said Alec to him twice now so that must be his name. It isn't familiar at all. He can't breathe. There isn't enough air.

“Come on, you can do it, breathe with me,” the woman says. She starts counting breaths so he can follow along. He tries but it's all too much.

A nurse rushes in. She says something to the woman who ignores her and keeps staring into his eyes.

The man lets go of his hand. He gasps raggedly and it hurts, everything hurts.

Maybe he blacks out, maybe he just loses the time, but when he's aware of what's happening again, the man and woman are gone. Doctors and nurses are hovering over him. They're talking to each other and maybe to him but they aren't calling him Alec or Hardison. They're calling him 'Mr. Delacourt' instead.

“Mr. Delacourt, I'm going to need you to roll onto your side a little. It's going to hurt but we'll get you some more morphine in a minute, okay?”

He tries to do what they ask. One of the nurses gives him some ice chips which melt in his mouth and soothe his throat.

Finally, they stop touching him and there's only one Latina doctor standing still beside him. He's grateful she's still because his head hurts _so much_ and he's dizzy from all the activity.

“Okay, Mr. Delacourt, I'm going to ask you a few questions,” she says.

He nods. He regrets it immediately. The doctor winces in sympathy. “Try not to move your head,” she advises.

“Okay,” he croaks.

“Now, do you know where you are?” she asks.

“Hospital,” he says.

“Which city?”

He doesn't know. He also doesn't know who is President, what year it is, or what happened to him. He can answer how many fingers, what's five times nine, and remember five random words three minutes after the doctor has told them to him.

The doctor keeps her face still as he answers but he knows he should be able to answer everything correctly. He isn't dumb. That's a relief somehow.

“Are you in pain?” the doctor asks.

He laughs which comes out sounding awful. “Yeah,” he says.

She adjusts something that he'd have to turn his head to see. Then she shows him where the call button is. “If it hurts a lot, press this and someone will come help you. Now, try to rest.”

“Wait,” he says. “Can... they come back in?”

“Who?” she asks. Her face is carefully blank again.

He can't answer that. She knows he can't. “Let them in,” he croaks instead. Somehow, he knows they're waiting outside.

The doctor sighs and adjusts something else where he can't see. “Just for a few minutes,” she says.

Maybe it's just logic that tells him they'll be waiting outside. People who sleep by your bed and cry when you wake up don't just _leave_.

They come in as soon as the doctor opens the door. He hears her say, “Don't upset him. I'll be back to talk to you later.”

Both of them nod. He wishes he knew their names.

They stay on the same side of the bed this time, sitting so he can see both of them. The man is beautiful too, he realizes. He could get lost just looking at both of them.

“How are you feeling?” the man asks.

“Bad,” he says. He takes a deep breath. He has to tell them.

“Don't worry if you can't remember the alias, we'll fix it later,” the woman says. She makes a face. “Well, you'll fix it later, I guess.”

“I don't remember,” he says.

“That's okay,” the man says.

“No, I don't _remember_ ,” he says, more emphatically. His head hurts less now but it's harder to think.

The woman's eyes go wide. The man shakes his head like he can't believe it.

“I'm sorry,” he says.

“Don't be sorry,” the man says, fiercely.

“Can you... tell me?” he asks. His eyes are closing.

“We'll tell you everything,” the woman says. He feels her hand on his, then the man's hand too. It's comforting and he lets himself relax into the darkness behind his eyes.

~

He's deeply tired of waking up in hospital rooms. This room. The man is alone by his bed this time, reading a battered paperback.

“Hi,” he rasps. His throat is dry again.

The man jumps. He drops the book without marking his place, without even watching where he drops it, and grabs the low railing of the bed.

“Hey, Alec,” the man says. He smiles and he's even more beautiful than before.

“That's my name?” he asks.

The man nods, his smile fading. “Alec Hardison,” he says.

“And yours?” Alec asks.

“Eliot Spencer,” Eliot says.

“But we use aliases?” Alec wants to get this right.

The man nods again. “Don't worry too much about that right now though.”

“Because I'll fix it later,” Alec says, to show he remembers that much.

That makes the man snort. “Yeah, you will.”

“What's her name?” Alec asks.

“Parker,” Eliot says.

Alec waits for a last name, or a first name. Another name. People have more than one name usually.

“She's off... getting some air,” Eliot says. It sounds like he changed what he was going to say. Alec is already tired of _that_ and it's barely even started.

“You have to tell me, I don't know,” he says.

“Okay,” Eliot says, gently. “She likes to use her climbing gear and jump off buildings. So she's doing that.” He taps his ear. “We both have comms in but hers is off right now. When she turns it back on, I'll tell her you're awake and she'll come back.”

“Oh, okay,” Alec says. He _did_ ask. The thought of jumping off anything makes him feel sick.

“You don't like heights,” Eliot says. He pushes his hair back. It's long and looks really soft. “Dammit. Should I be telling you that?” he asks.

“I don't know,” Alec says, honestly.

Eliot sighs.

“Hey, Eliot,” Alec asks. Eliot tenses up. What is he afraid of? “Can you hold my hand again?”

Eliot loosens his white knuckled grip on the railing and takes Alec's hand. He's as gentle as before. Alec doesn't know much right now, and he suspects that he's drugged up to the _eyeballs_ , but he knows that holding Eliot's hand makes him feel safe.

They stay like that for a minute, and then Alec realizes he is falling asleep again. Stupid drugs. Stupid pain.

“Thanks,” he says, and Alec can hear the slur in his own voice. He wants to say more, tell Eliot what he's thanking him for, but he can't make the words happen.

Eliot squeezes his hand. “I'll be here when you wake up,” he says.

~

When Alec wakes up again, someone is in the bed with him. He can feel warmth all down his right side where they've somehow fit between him and the bed railing. The room is dark. It must be night time.

He must have moved a little when he woke up because he hears Parker whisper, “I'll go if it hurts you.” She's so close that he can feel her breath on his ear.

“Stay,” he says, before he can really think about it.

“They made us leave,” she whispers. “I had to break in. Eliot says it's because you're getting better.”

“Is he here?” Alec asks.

“Yes,” Parker says. “But he's sleeping. Should I wake him up?”

“Already did, darlin',” Eliot says, and Alec can see a shape against the light coming around the door. Alec reaches his hand out blindly. Eliot takes it.

“If you're getting better, can we go home soon?” Parker asks. She doesn't sound hopeful.

“Where's home?” Alec asks. He shouldn't have, because it makes Parker put her face against his shoulder and Eliot's hand tense. “Sorry,” he says.

“Don't,” Eliot says, and Alec remembers he's said that before.

It's been a few minutes and Alec isn't almost asleep again so he's pretty sure he _is_ getting better. That's good news.

“Home is wherever we are,” Parker says, finally.

“Yeah,” Alec says. His head is starting to hurt again but the darkness is better than the light. Parker breathing next to him makes it easier to breathe.

“You can ask us anything,” Eliot says. “Don't worry.”

“How long have we known each other?” Alec asks, almost at random. The whole world of things he doesn't know is so big that it hardly seems to matter where he starts relearning it.

“Five and a half years,” Parker says.

“Where did we meet?” Alec asks.

“Los Angeles,” Eliot says.

“One show only,” Parker adds, like it means something.

“Are we... famous?” Alec asks, putting that together with the alias thing.

“Yes,” Parker says, while at the same time, Eliot says, “No.”

“We _are_ famous,” Parker insists.

“He means famous like 'are we celebrities',” Eliot says. “Don't you?”

“Sure,” Alec says, because his head is really hurting now.

“We're thieves,” Parker says. “We're the best.”

Alec should be reacting to that news but he is just going to have to do it when he wakes up.

~

He wakes up to angry whispers. The room is full of light again. Alec wonders how many days he's been here.

“He should be asking us more questions!” Eliot hisses.

“He's asleep _all_ the time!” Parker hisses back.

“That's what he's supposed to do: rest,” Eliot says. “But when he's awake, he's just... I don't know! It's... not like him.”

“I am on so much morphine right now,” Alec says.

They turn around in unison so fast that they look like Olympic figure skaters. Distantly, Alec is annoyed at his brain for knowing useless things.

“Maybe not morphine anymore but I heard the doctors say morphine at some point,” Alec corrects himself. It's important to get things right. “So, I'm feeling pretty relaxed about things in general.” He pauses. He should tell them. “And I feel safe with you.”

Eliot looks like Alec just punched him. Parker is staring.

“Hardison, we could be _anybody_ ,” Eliot says. “You shouldn't trust us just because we're here!”

“Why not?” Alec asks.

“Dammit, Hardison!” Eliot says, dragging his fingers through his hair.

“It's my fault you're hurt,” Parker blurts out.

Now Alec is the one staring at her. “What?” he asks.

“No,” Eliot says. “Parker. It's not your fault.” He steps toward her but she backs up and he stops.

“It was my plan,” Parker says, hugging herself. She isn't quite looking at Alec, more like looking in his direction.

“I should have been there,” Eliot says.

“Wait, wait,” Alec says, interrupting Parker's reply. They both look at him. “So, you both blame yourselves? And nobody blames me?”

“Do you remember...” Eliot starts to ask but trails off.

Alec is frustrated now and the headache is getting worse again. He is so sick of being hurt he could scream. “No. But, like, why couldn't it be my fault? Just because I'm the one in the hospital? Did either of you see it happen?”

“We heard it,” Parker says.

Alec remembers the comms now. “Well then,” he says, “How do you know that I didn't do something stupid?” He feels more than capable of doing something stupid.

They stare at him.

“It's okay if you feel guilty,” Alec says, holding on to consciousness, “But I don't blame you. I know you'd've... stopped it... if you could.” He groans. It feels like his skull is going to split open.

Parker leans over him and puts her head down on his chest. He can smell her hair. It's citrusy. “Okay,” she whispers.

Hardison looks at Eliot. He hasn't come any closer. Alec waves him over.

Parker straightens up gracefully and throws her arms around Eliot. Eliot hugs her back.

Alec smiles through his headache. He wants to hug Eliot too. It's good that Parker is.

Then a nurse comes in and makes Parker and Eliot leave so he can do tests on Alec. He's barely awake when they come back.

“Can you check my morphine dosage?” Alec asks them, closing his eyes. “Because I should be able to be _awake_ for longer than this, no matter what happened to my brain.”

He isn't sure how much of the last sentence was understandable. Hopefully he remembers to come back to his point later.

~

This time, waking up is different. His head still hurts, of course. It's starting to feel like it's always hurt.

Eliot is sitting by his bed alone, staring into space. He looks like he hasn't slept in a long time.

“Eliot, baby,” Alec says, “How come you didn't tell me we're dating?”

Eliot's eyes focus on him with an almost audible snap.

Alec continues, “The three of us, I mean. It would have boosted my morale a lot, knowing I'd managed to convince _two_ hot people to date me at the same time. And date each other.” He's lying, he knew they were his people, even without remembering the exact nature of their relationship.

“Did Parker tell you?” Eliot asks. The hope in his eyes is just heartbreaking.

“No,” Alec says. “Come on, ask me something only we know. Ooh, what about that fishing trip when I—”

Eliot interrupts him with a kiss. Alec has been known to babble on purpose, just to get him to do that.

It's a lovely kiss but Alec makes the mistake of trying to sit up and, wow, _not_ a good idea. “Ow,” he mutters.

Eliot basically jumps back, which is a bit insulting. “My fault,” Alec says, wincing. “Head injuries are the worst.”

“Tell me about it,” Eliot sighs. “God, Alec, you scared us.”

“That's what you said when I woke up the first time,” Alec says. Or was it the second time?

“So, you remember everything?” Eliot asks.

Alec considers. “Not whatever happened to me. But yeah, I remember everything else, I think.”

“Oh, that's a relief!” Sophie says, from the doorway.

Eliot turns. Sophie comes the rest of the way into the room. Nate follows her, then Parker.

“Sophie, Nate, what are you doing here?” Alec asks. “Weren't you in Paris?”

Parker's face lights up. She's at the side of his bed in a second. “You're okay?” she asks.

“Perfect,” Alec says.

She grins and kisses him.

“Well,” Nate says, “Looks like this was a bit of a wasted trip.”

Everybody glares at him, including Alec.

“We're supposed to jog his memory and he's fine before we even come in,” Nate says, with his familiar 'why do I even need to explain this' voice.

Sophie rolls her eyes. “Sorry, Hardison, you know how he gets in hospitals. Come here, Eliot, give me a hug.”

After the hugs and the asking Alec how he is are over, Parker perches on his bed and Eliot leans against the wall so Nate and Sophie can have the chairs. They tell stories, some new and some old, and Alec just soaks it up.

They make too much noise and a nurse comes to frown at them. Nate takes that as a cue and hustles Sophie away, though she promises that they'll stay in town until Alec's home recuperating.

No amount of frowning can phase Parker. Eliot just frowns right back. He's much better at it and the nurses leave very quickly.

Alec doesn't want to go to sleep ever again but he feels himself starting to nod off after another hour of stories.

“Go ahead and sleep,” Parker says, patting his arm. “We'll be here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hilariously, this fic has the format "Five Times Hardison Woke Up With Amnesia (And One Time He Didn't)' almost entirely not on purpose


End file.
